Proxy
by Jessiy Landroz
Summary: Proxy: The act or practice of a person serving as an agent or substitute for another. [Progressing]
1. Deception

Chapter One:

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I think things whether they're good or bad happen for a reason, and for every action there is a reaction.

But- what if you never knew what the reaction was, or how it even happened?

Does it change how you look at things, how they work and how you used to work around them, previous the aforementioned reaction?

Sometimes, I guess I wonder what it would be like to go back in time, to see things as they were and as they actually happened. It would make you want to stop time, as well as yourself from doing the things you knew you did wrong, to try and make up for the mistakes you have done, but sometimes you don't because most of the time, it's the way things are supposed to be, and then you realize things go the way they do for a reason.

But what if you still don't know the reason, or what the reaction was, if any?

I guess I'll have to elaborate somehow so my words would make more sense, huh?

Well, not much to say, really. I remember waking up some time very late at night, with blackness shrouding my sight and nothing but a small sparking light a distance away. It was the sky, I realized it after a while, because I noted how clear it was after my sight stopped dancing like a mirage. The stars sparkled beautifully and a bit of the moon showed from the edge of the hole.

That is when it took me a moment to realize I was down a hole, a really deep one.

With a low grunt, I tried to move my arms but they felt heavy like lead, heavy and aching, sore all over and pinned by invisible weights to the floor, as if I had been compressed into the soil and flattened to the floor, nearly literally.

Ironically, it appears that it was actually the case, because when I tried to turn my head, I realized my head was pinned as well as it was half shoved into the dirt, almost as if I had fallen so hard against the floor, I was plastered into it and my body dug up the ground to fit me.

After a bit of struggle, mostly because my body refused to comply and only twitched when I tried to move, I finally managed to pluck my arms from the soil and though I didn't have the strength to sit up at the moment, I did manage to push out of the dug out spot in the ground, and then roll over to lay flat on my chest. I breathed heavily and felt my heart pound in my head, a throbbing headache began and my vision blurred again.

Just as I had expected when I glanced at the spot where I was previously, I noticed dug out shape of my body in the floor. I blinked to clear my dizzied vision, before I noted the buried ground was at least three inches deep.

Wow! It must've been one nasty fall, I'm surprised I'm not dead… or maybe I already am dead? No, my body hurts too much to be dead; I mean, doesn't being dead mean you grow numb, cold and hard? I don't feel cold, numb or hard, so I'm really very much alive.

It's kind of hard to tell, especially with my head hitting the floor everything going black again.

I think I fainted…

I do remember I lied down for a long time, though; I was too content with the cool breeze against my skin to bother moving. Maybe I _was_ dying, because I started feeling cold and unable to move.

After a while, the chill disappeared and I felt warmth on my shoulder, before it started to spread across my aching frame. It was comforting, a soothing salve to the pain. It didn't take me long to wake up and feel more alive. I blinked tiredly, wondering where the cool dirt and cold air had gone, replaced with a warm cushy mattress and a thick heavy blanket over me.

The blackness was now illuminated with soft lit candles; the orange-red colored flamed danced lazily as another soft breeze blew around. The small boxed room was snug and smelled of- incense, I think. The smell was familiar, soothing, calming and I liked it very much. I lay there for the longest moment, staring idly at the candle light that lazily danced a short distance away from me.

It reminded me of something, something really important in the back of my mind, but for the life of me I didn't know what it was.

"I see you are awake." a feminine voice with an accent spoke softly, and I strained my stiff neck to turn my heavy head a bit to look around the room, thinking she was elsewhere when she actually stood just beyond the candle. I blinked slowly, watching her in a daze and a strange sense of comfort with her presence, "Can you move?" she said softly, a motherly and concerned look in her dark eyes.

I frowned confusedly, before I mustered up the strength to lift an arm, slipping it slowly from under the heavy blanket and placing it above the thick cover. I let go of a small exhausted breath; moving my arm alone was enough to tire me out, and the blanket's thickness and weight weren't helping. It almost felt as if the cover was made of concrete, not thick strands of- wool, was it? Nevertheless, it was weighty.

I tried to pull myself up, to move my legs, but though I could move and feel them just fine, I was much too tired to keep trying, so I soon gave up, slumped in bed I gave an exhausted groan.

She stepped closer and I heard the soft jingling of something in the air. I glanced at her, and then noticed all the beads and necklaces, laces and bracelets she wore, aside the smaller pieces that dangled from her shawl and headscarf. It was mostly painted and fake jewelry, save for the golden chocker she wore on her neck, a hunch told me it was the real deal.

I didn't like the fact it looked like a glorified dog collar, though.

She sat besides me on the bed with a small bowl in her hands, she reached with a hand to help me lift my head; she offered me a drink and said it would help me get better.

The bowl had something like water in it, sweet and sticky in a way, so I knew it was probably mixed with something, but I just didn't have the heart to ask, I was thirsty and the stuff smelled pretty good. I just reached with my heavy arms to support the bowl, a poor attempt because they gave up on me half way. She helped me till I finished the last drop.

I swallowed the liquid, savoring the rich sweet nourishment and content with the feel of it sliding down my throat. Once the bowl was empty, I gasped in satisfaction with my thirst quenched and she eased my head down, now I lay more comfortably on the cushy bedding. I thanked her and closed my eyes for a moment, licked my lips and gulped the aftertaste that still latched onto my taste buds.

I mused how good the stuff tasted and wondered what she put in it, because I really wouldn't mind another.

I was a bit startled and pulled out of my thoughts, when she traced her fingers on the side of my head and then over my cheek and fingered my chin, before she retrieved her hand and placed it along with the other on the now empty bowl. We stared at each other, a sense of calmness lingered between us and I believed that though I've never seen her in my entire life, I could trust her.

Her motherly smile was so radiant with compassion, and it reminded me of something I yet again couldn't pinpoint.

She glanced at the bowl for a moment and her thumb brushed the soft surface, before she looked at me again with a timid little smile, "If you do not mind me asking," she said in that strange accent again, and then hesitated for a second before she cocked her head, smiling strangely, bemusedly, and her brows met in a cute sort of confused expression, "what- exactly _are_ you?"

I stared at her for a moment longer and wondered what kind of question she was asking, when the question came to mind: Am I not human? So to answer and clarify my own question, I raised a hand and looked at it for myself.

Imagine my start when I spied the green toned skin and three fingers, it sure didn't look human.

I raised my other hand and compared them, blankly staring from one to the others, before I mustered up enough strength to push myself sitting up; she helped me of course, because my body was still too stiff to move on its own.

I tried to sit more upright but I was too dizzied to stay like that, that's when she put the bowl on the floor, as I realized the bed wasn't all that high, and she helped me settle more comfortably on the mattress.

A soft breeze blew about again, the candlelight's tiny flames flickered in panic, fearing they would be taken out by the harsh chilling air, but didn't for they straightened up and settled back on their candlewicks as if nothing happened.

That's when I noticed the smell of vanilla and tea, green tea; and then the stack of pillows behind me, keeping me upright a bit more than before. The woman smiled and asked if I was comfortable, so I nodded with a weak smile and thanked her again. But soon after that, we settled in the quiet room and simply said nothing, previous question seemingly forgotten.

I decided to get a better look of my surroundings.

The room was rather small with no words or windows, and I mean no doors and windows as a room where they're missing from where they belong. Instead, there were pieces of cloth hung on the wall, with nails and plates of wood nailed to the walls to keep them from falling off. The room looked like that of an abandoned building where a homeless would move in and claim it as their own.

Clearly, she was that apparent homeless. The poorly modified room looked like it got some pretty tacky work put into it, but it was homey enough. Although it could barely keep out the chill in winter or the heat in summer, or even the cats, dogs or bugs from coming in for that matter, it did have an air or serenity and safety within its confined walls.

The windows were sealed with another plank at the bottom, keeping the cloth from flying off and letting the wind in, while the door had a rather large blanket hung over it, it reached down to the floor, huge rocks were placed at the tail end to keep it from flying off as well. The floor was bare or any mats and the concrete were chipped and dirty. The walls looked like they were ready to be torn down, or maybe the flaky paint made it look that way. The only pieces of furniture around were a small coffee table with two wooden and mismatched chairs.

The wind blew again harsher than before, curving the cloth that blocked the window, but the gust of air was strong enough to slip between the ripped slits and into the small room. Although the candles went out quickly and engulfed the room into pitch blackness, they quickly flickered back on. At first I thought that it was weird, but then figured the flame nearly went out but didn't, or they were a prank candle, the type that doesn't actually go out.

"Do you live here?" I asked her nervously.

I could make up her heart shaped face in the dimly lit room, and saw her as she smiled sadly, "Only when I need to hide, child. Do not worry," she amended, gently she brushed my head as if brushing away stray strands of hair, and then for some strange reason, gently pecked my forehead and then pushed off the mattress, "Get some sleep, I will be here when you wake up," she cooed softly.

I wondered if she was cold because I was the one with the blanket, and her clothes looked rather light, barely enough to keep her warm. I wanted to offer her the bed and move elsewhere, but apparently she knew what I was thinking and shushed me, before insisting I go to sleep.

I don't know why I listened to her, but I did as told and eased back into the bed, turned to my side and then snuggled into the warmth of the bedding, pulled the blanket closer and sighed in contentment, the warmth was amazingly lulling. The blanket was really soft and warm, probably the under layer was the soft side for a more comfortable sleep, cause I soon drifted off before I even realized it.

The warmth of the blanket and the chill of the night were enough, to make me bury myself into the bedding even deeper.

As restful as my slumber was, something in the back of my mind nagged at me.

I feel like I'm forgetting something, but for the life of it I have no idea what it is, or was.

Either way I slept like a rock, or at least that's what Marcella said after I woke up the next morning. Marcella was the woman who found me last night, she's a Latin Gypsy of sorts, claimed she was a Roma and she came from Spain.

Although she's around thirty five years old, she looked much younger than that. She works as a fortune teller to make a living, and said that her last fortune telling wasn't so fortunate, and whoever she read the fortune to wasn't too thrilled about it. He claimed she was lying to get more money out of him and tried to kill her, so she had to hide, which explains why we're here.

During breakfast, I asked her how I got here, because all I remembered was being down a hole staring at a starlit sky.

She said I was at the bottom of a well of sorts and the rats were gathered around me, checking if I was dead so they could eat me. Gratefully, the bottom of the so called well had a tunnel running through it, and she passed by me when the continuous echo of the screeching rats drew her attention. She got there before they decided I was good as dead and got me out, even if I was awful heavy for her to carry. She managed to half carry, half drag me here to her little- borrow, as she called it, and took care of me for a whole day, before I finally woke up.

I guess I was really out of it, because I was still tired even after I woke up this morning.

The bed was too cushy, warm and comfortable; I didn't want to leave the amazing comfort it provided. When I did have to leave to relive myself, I'd do it quickly because the cold air and the eerie surroundings of the building got on my nerves. It almost felt as if there were eyes in the darkness watching me, stalking me, waiting for me to come closer so they'd pounce on me.

Right now I lay in bed again, staring idly at the ceiling over my head.

The paint was peeling and curling off the tiles, and soon it'll fall down on the bed.

I guess it explains the transparent net-like sheets set over the bed, to prevent the paint flakes from falling down on someone when they're sleeping, huh? Although I recall her saying it was also to keep the mosquitoes away, the side curtains were torn so she had to remove them, because they kept tickling her face when she slept and woke her up, thinking there was something invading her in her sleep.

I sighed softly, my hands over my abdomen over the warm covers, and Marcella besides me knitting a scarf with her balls of yarn. I glanced at her sleepily and just stared at her fingers while they expertly worked on stretching that scarf longer and longer.

Earlier this morning, when I couldn't go back to sleep, she decided to pick up a conversation and asked me who I was and where I'm from, but I couldn't remember anything at all. I realized it was probably a case of amnesia, because I know I'm in New York city and I'm a turtle, or a humanoid turtle, but my problem is I don't remember the _who_, not the what or where.

I yawned after a while and snuggled into the bedding again, lazily watching her work.

"If I may ask," she began gently, paused in her knitting and lowered her hand to look at me, "do you at least remember your name?"

I shook my head where it rested against the pillow, "Not really."

Earlier, we've recited the alphabet and tried to match up letters, Marcella hoped one of them would sound familiar to me, but nothing rang a bell. Although the L and O sort of tickled the back of my mind, as well as brought a strange shiver to the tip of my tongue, it didn't really mean anything special to me. I knew one of those letters must have carried my name, I just didn't know which one.

"What name do you think I've got?" I murmured sleepily.

She looked at me for a moment, that gentle mother smile caressed her lips before she nodded, "Well, you look like a Sameer to me." She smiled wider at my confused blink. "Sameer is taken from Samar, it means: He who likes to tell tales and stories at night." she amended, "You hadn't really said much, but I feel you are the type who likes to talk and tell stories."

I smiled a bit timidly, "You think so?" I smiled and she nodded once, confirming her choice. "Alright then, form now my name is Sameer." I grinned happily and she smiled back with a bemused quirked brow.

She adjusted the blanket over me and told me to go back to sleep if I'm tired, before she picked up her knitting sticks and went back to work. I nearly drifted off to sleep until I heard a soft mewing sound, so I woke up from my light dose and looked around. On the floor, a short distance away from the basket where Marcella put her balls of yarn, was a short haired, black as midnight cat with brilliant yellow green eyes.

It mewed softly and purred against the woman's feet, begging for attention, but Marcella only glanced at the cat before turning her attention back to her knitting. Undaunted, the cat flicked its ears at the basket when a ball of yarn jumped, as the woman tugged the thread. The cat, naturally, stalked closer to the basket and hit one of the balls, and when the ball bounced out of the basket, the cat wasted no time to jump at it.

"Mao, leave the yarn alone, mama is working." Marcella admonished the cat gently.

The feline either didn't care or didn't listen, it continued to batter the ball. The woman sighed softly and continued to work, pausing occasionally when the cat continued to attack the yarn and tug at the knitting sticks. After a while the cat launched at the ball and the threads were frizzed because of the claws, and Marcella had to stop because the silly feline got itself tangled up.

I chuckled and pushed a bit upright, not exactly sitting but in a more alert position than before. The Roma woman had to stop and untangle the naughty cat, and I noted it was a female. Once free of the yarn, the woman set the cat free and ushered her out of the room, but the feline refused. Instead of leaving, she sort of skipped towards me, hopped onto the bed and curled up into a ball, nestled on my lap she began to purr like- like a motorcycle.

A motorcycle… hmm, that sounds familiar…

Nevertheless, with no questions asked, I lay back again and busied myself with tenderly scratching the cat.

Her purring sort of vibrated across my chest, and the low rumbling felt so nice.

It didn't take me long to fall asleep again, and this time it was more comfortable and more restful than before.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: I have no idea how long this story will be, though I estimate ten to fifteen maximum; its not really supposed to be long, and I just felt the need to post _some_thing or value after so long a lull time…


	2. Lore

Chapter Two:

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I can't really say things were back to normal, because somehow I feel there had been a change.

Something had been altered; I admit this change might have just been all in my head, because everything seems just as normal as ever.

I woke up this morning feeling rather neutral and maybe a bit groggy, unlike usual when I wake up at this late hour of the morning. My brothers and I know that I'm the earliest to wake up, and the last one to go to bed, most of the time, but today I overslept and I guess it is the reason I feel still a bit deprived of motivation to be active, or as active as I usually am.

A while ago things began to change, but the change had been so small and so insignificant and not too noticeable, I again began to wonder if it's just my imagination playing tricks on me.

For the life of it, I just can't pinpoint what this change even is. I know there is something different about my family; something that wasn't quite there before, I just don't know what is suddenly so different.

Perhaps my subconscious detects something, and my conscious hadn't realized what it is yet, and that it why my mind refuses to think it is imaginary? I know the change may be subtle but it is still there, taunting me and tickling the back of my mind with what felt like long, sharp talons, but I just can't pinpoint the change. I fail to see what is so different even if I already know it is there, somewhere…

"You okay, bro?" one of my brothers spoke while he marched casually into the dojo, he knelt and peered at me where I sat, "Ya look kinda frustrated," he commented with a concerned yet lopsided smile.

I sighed softly and offered a wary smile, "I'm fine, I just find it a bit hard to focus right now, I can't meditate." I massaged my brow and with my eyes closed, tried to clear my thoughts and attempt meditation again.

He didn't answer immediately, instead he sat down before me with his legs buckled under him. After a moment, he pressed his hand to my temple to feel my temperature, and when he felt nothing, he cocked his head confusedly, "Maybe you're just trying too hard, bro. you've been like this for a while now," he offered a hand placed on my shoulder, "Wanna talk about it?"

I glanced at him and smiled. Ah yes, leave it to Mike to try and make us talk and make things better. So with a mild grin I shook my head, "No thanks, I'm probably still groggy from this morning. I can't believe I overslept." I rubbed the back of my neck and pushed off the mats, then stretched my discouragingly stiff muscles, "I think I'll go take a shower, hot water might help me relax."

"Want me to get the bubble bath ready?" He smiled cheekily and fluttered his eyelids cutely.

I playfully flicked his forehead, "No, goof ball. I can make my own bath, thank you very much." I muttered and walked passed him.

"Suit yourself." He mumbled in that hurt puppy-like manner.

Naturally, I disregarded him and continued on towards the bathroom, and once inside I stripped out of my gear and when the water was nice and hot, I stepped under the shower and let the waters rinse out my discomfort, and sighed in contentment as the heat caressed every inch of skin, soothing away the stiff ache and casting the soreness away.

Still, even under the heated rain melting away the tension in my muscles, there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. There was something that just didn't sit well with me and it irked me, it was like an itch I could not scratch somewhere within reach yet could not be satisfied.

While in the shower I sensed something in there with me, startled with an urgent sense of alarm I whipped around.

Amidst my alarm and confusion I saw there was nothing there, and yet I was sure it was, it was just hiding somewhere I could not see. No sooner have those thoughts passed through my mind, I felt the prickly tingle on the back of my neck, and it sent ripples of sharp awareness and apprehension up and buzzing through my spine.

It felt like I was being watched by a gaze so deep and full of malice, something thick and heavy and could not be explained in mere words alone.

I hastened to finish washing up to leave the steamy room, not wanting to linger if the- whatever it was, was still there with me. Unfortunately, the moment I turned away from the open space besides the shower room, and fixed my eyes at the tap to shut the water, I spied something unfamiliar at the corner of my eye, and nearly in the same instant I felt something behind me, practically breathing down my neck.

I quickly whipped around again, alarmed and startled by a faint icy touch to the back of my shoulder.

Suddenly I was enveloped in blackness, my head felt like it was about to explode as imminent pressure ensnarled my skull, before the suffocating and intense pain just as suddenly subsided and everything was black.

It felt like merely a second of a moment passed, before someone gently patted my cheek in attempt to rouse me, gently and worriedly a voice urged me to open my eyes or wake up.

Dizzied and feeling nauseated, the sickening feeling of bail crawling up my throat registered. I groaned and raised a heavy hand to feel my forehead, but only winced as burning pain shot through my arm, from fingertip to shoulder socket as if I had been electrocuted. The pain was hot and sharp, it buzzed through my muscles in an undeniable spasm of pain, it made me squirm and emit a strangled gasp.

"Leo, can ya hear me?" I heard Raph's voice, and tiredly blinked against the bright fluorescent lights of the bathroom ceiling, "Bro, how many fingers do you see?" he offered, gesturing with his hand in front of me.

I blinked and frowned at the hand, and all I saw at first were three fingers, but my vision was blurred before I realized it was just one finger, "One, I think." I muttered, half thinking like he was gesturing something with that finger, but pushed the idea aside, it just sounded too wrong in a situation like this.

"Leo, how's your head?" Don's voice followed, and I felt his cool hand on the side of my skull, "You banged it pretty hard, you might have gotten a concussion." He added, then pressed a piece of clothe to the back of my skull. "How do you feel?"

I groaned inwardly and squeezed my eyes shut, "Ugh… dizzy, headache… I think I'm gonna hurl." I groused.

Raph made a disgusted noise before slowly carefully pushing me upright in a sitting position, and Don applied a bit more pressure to my head. "I don't want none of yer breakfast splatter on me, even if it was just green tea." he muttered a bit, and then eased my fine arm over his shoulder to help me up, but hesitated before he stood upright, "Think ya can stand?"

I nodded very slowly and he helped me up to my feet, while Don kept the pressure on my skull.

"What happened?" I barely whispered while we exit the steamy room. I shivered involuntarily as the chill prickled my skin, but endured it for now. I'll get a blanket and keep warm in a moment, now I just want to know if they saw what attacked me.

"You appear to have slipped and banged your head, Leo." Don replied as a towel almost came out of nowhere, he used it to dap the moist off my body before exiting the room besides us. "I heard a loud bang coming from the bathroom, so I knocked to make sure whoever was inside was alright. All I heard was rushing water and no reply so I went in, saw you on the floor with a bleeding head." He explained.

"But- I've never slipped in the bathroom before, how did- ?" I argued, wondering if it was really something that attacked me, or if it was just the eerie sensation. Either way, I felt whatever was in the bathroom with me was responsible for this.

"Leo, everyone slips and falls in the bathroom, you're no exception." Raph grunted, when Don was finished drying up my shaky frame, "Just be glad you missed the corner of the tub, or you could have been dead in seconds." He grumped, a guilty look of concern shown on this face when he glanced at Don, "Remind me to get those corners dulled, I don't want this happening again."

Mike appeared with a blanket and a few more towels, then he and Don wrapped me up to keep me warm.

After a bit of work I was taken to the den and seated on the couch, while Don went to fetch the first aid kit.

I couldn't go to my room because they didn't want me to fall asleep just yet, and because they wanted me where they could see me. Going to my room would keep me secluded and they didn't want that, not now.

I kept the pressure on the towel pressed to my head, and although I felt much better after my body adjusted to the change in temperature, Raph settled besides me and brought a trash bin closer, just in case I really did feel like tossing my guts.

Mike left to get the bathroom cleaned up, saying there were soap suds all over the place, and the blood would need to be washed away before it leaves irremovable stains. He didn't want master Splinter to come home and spot anything. Our father had enough troubles to worry him for now, and he doesn't need more.

Don, after he came back, was informed of that tidbit regarding the soap, and mumbled that it was probably the reason I slipped in the first place. After a quick inspection, I was thankfully concussion-less, but my head will still hurt for a while, I had to stay put for the reminder day and not exerts myself.

Still, there was something in the back of my mind insisting it was no minor accident, there was something in the bathroom and it was out to get me, but what the shell it was and why it chose me, I have no idea.

My brothers clearly had no idea what it was, because they all agree it was an accident, so I assume they hadn't felt the thing, therefore don't expect it to be the cause. I'm not sure if telling them what had happened all too bluntly would change much, because I got the impression they'd think I've been into Mikey's comics too long, or something along that line.

Somehow, sitting there all alone on the couch made me feel very uncomfortable, but truth be told it felt safer than being alone in my room. I can't really put it in words, but I felt comfort in the presence of my brothers, whenever they passed by the couch for some reason or another, yet in the same time knew whatever had attacked me was still there, sharing the room with me.

I can feel it there watching me, waiting, and it irked me considerably so, and yet I masked it the best I could. There is no need to worry my brothers on something they yet don't see, or sense. If I am the only one who can sense it, then it is probably for a good reason. I will handle this alone until I can figure out what to do regarding the matter, and how to do it properly.

After a few hours, Mike decided a little television time might help put me to ease. It was near lunch time so he figured a nap might help me get better, before the meal is served. Donny, of course, argued that just because I apparently don't have a concussion, doesn't mean it's a sure fact, and it would be better safe than sorry if I stay awake as much as possible, just to be sure.

Mike argued by saying I didn't look too good and was growing a bit pale, so a quick nap would do some good. He, and later Raph who joined the conversation, agreed to wake me up every now and then just to make sure.

Reluctant, Don agreed, so I settled on the couch and dosed off.

In the dream world, I felt the presence of whatever it was and it was much stronger, and in my subconsciousness, all I saw was a shrouded hallow of a figure, too obscure and vague to distinguish with anything. Like a cloud it was just a huge fuzzy and fluffed up blob of cottony-like fog, with no noticeable details. But I felt its presence clearly. Nevertheless, it followed me everywhere I went in my subconscious, but it felt more like it was just merely stalking me, watching, looking or waiting for something.

Abruptly, just as I complemented the thought of interacting with it to see what it wanted, I was woken up by Raph and a few mundane questions, just to check if I had a concussion or not. Once he was satisfied with my slurred answers, he let me go back to sleep, but the eerie companion never came back. My sleep lasted longer and was more comfortable, and yet I knew it was there. Its presence wasn't as clearly felt as before, but I knew it was there. Almost as if it sat right there besides me, within reach but without touching and just remained still, waiting.

I decided to seek it out, perhaps it's not as dark as I expected? One could only hope, and I really wanted to know what it wanted.

Even in sleep, I managed to drive most of my thoughts into connecting with this- anarchy, or whatever it was.

In the beginning I didn't really hear, see or feel anything of it, as if it had masked itself from me so I would not be able to detect it. But it didn't remain that way for long, and I think it sought me out once it was sure I was alone, in the figurative sense of the word. I couldn't sense my brothers anywhere, so they probably left me alone for the moment, and it appears the strange creature decided to approach me.

'_What are you?_' I spoke to it gently, not wanting to spook it while I traveled quietly into my subconscious world.

It shimmered softly in the dimly lit area, what I assumed to be the shadowed and shadow-shrouded part of my mind. After a moment, it took shape as a nearly human like figure but just a bit bigger, bulkier. Its eyes were huge and round on its faceless face, and all I saw on that black slate of a face were there two huge orbs. It stared at me with eyes like flashlights, perfectly round and bright.

'_You're on to me,_' it whispered into the void between us, voice low and timid, '_I want you to stop._' It continued, almost fearfully.

I stared at it confused by the confession. On to it? On to it over what? I don't think I've ever noticed it before it approached me in the bathroom… unless, it's referring to something I can't remember?

'_I don't think I understand._' I admitted, and hoped it would tell me why it didn't want me around itself.

It stared at me a moment longer and surprisingly enough it blinked, cocked its head confusedly, before a massively eerie shark-like smile stretched on the mouth adorning the once almost blank face. It was highly amused at my question and a low rumbling laugh, dark and thick, prickled every inch of skin on my body, a discomforting chill rattled my bones and I gasped softly, a strange suffocating thickness enveloped me.

'_You hadn't noticed yet, have you?_' it said bemusedly, not a question, and its voice became more confident, '_You still hadn't noticed!_' it laughed, darker and louder before it suddenly leaped at me with a mighty maw, ready to devour me.

With a startled cry I jumped in my spot, shaken awake and back into reality. I breathed heavily and listened to the drumming of my heart against my ribs, throbbing against my brain.

"Hey, you okay, bro?" Mike settled besides me on the couch, a hand free on my forehead since he held a comic book in the other, and a worried look on his face although he tried to mask it with a wry grin, "If ya want, I can look for a teddy bear to keep you company." He offered teasingly.

I huffed with an annoyed smile and lay back down, a hand on my face to block the prickling light against my eyes, "No, I think I'm okay, just- woke myself up, I guess." I murmured, dizzied and nauseated after the sudden jolting move.

"Dude, is that even possible?" he said, and I peeked at him from under my hand, he smiled wearily and stared at me expectantly.

I nodded once and smiled weakly, before I covered my teary eyes again, "Sometimes, it happens." I amended, and then shrugged a shoulder, paused and realized Don and Raph weren't there in the den, or nearby around the lair for that matter, their aura was thin and faint as if they weren't home, "Where are the others?" I asked, not wanting to be alone in case the thing came back.

He shrugged, "Don said something about fetching something from Chinatown; probably more of those yucky herbs." He made a face, "And Raph's- around here somewhere." He pouted then looked around, "Raphie's probably at the dojo venting some steam." He smiled cheekily, then looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "want me to call him for you?" he offered.

"Whatever you're planning, Michelangelo, I advise you don't do it." I smiled and admonished warningly, and in reply he just sulked, "But yes, I'd like if you'd call Raph, I- kind of need to talk to him."

He stared at me for a moment to weight my words, before he cocked his head to the side, "You wanna talk to him about the bathroom incident?" he inquired, and at my nod he perked uneasily, "Well he already dulled those corners, if it's what worries you." He replied, but I shook my head, so he frowned again before the proverbial light bulb lit over his head, "Think he found something?" he asked, confused.

I shook my head, despite being confused with his later question, "No, I just want to know how they found me in there, cause- I really don't think I slipped." I frowned, but when I looked at him to say something more, I stilled when I saw Mike eyeing me with an odd look, somewhere between confusion and upset, "Mike, something wrong?"

He snapped out of his daze and shook his head, sheepishly with a small smile, "No, just thinking it really must've hurt, huh? I banged my head against something hard, more than once, and let me tell ya bro it was not the least bit pretty." He shrugged, "But everyone slips Leo, and the tub had soap on the floor, you probably just didn't notice it."

"Mike, I'm telling you I didn't slip," I insisted, growing tired of that accusation.

His smile fell, if only for a flicker of a moment, and a strange expression settled on his face before he huffed and rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, Leo." He shrugged and pushed off the couch, "But just so you know, we all do mistakes. And it was just a bathtub, don't get so defensive about it." he muttered casually and walked away towards the dojo where Raph was.

I watched him go, a part of me wondered when Mike had developed that nonchalant side of him, because I'm sure it wasn't there before.

Come to think of it, he hadn't been his usually annoying and cheery side for some time now. I don't know when it had began, but it's a side he had developed after since that fight with the Purple Dragons around a week ago.

Nothing out of the ordinary, really; we scouted them out at the docks transporting some smuggles weaponry, fought them and the four of us got separated. After we got back together and finished the job, we headed home and everything was back to normal.

Well, as normal as it is for this family.

Mike's developed this strange calm side ever since. I've tried talking to him once or twice, concerned that something had happened and altered him during our separation, but he kept brushing it off and saying he was fine, and all the concerns I'm having was all in my head. I really can't help but feel there is a change inside of him, I just don't know what it is.

Raph and Don felt it as well, that I'm sure, but they didn't let it concern them for some reason.

Sensei, however, still hadn't noticed anything because he's staying at April's.

He'd been there for a few days because firstly, the sewers were too cold and winter is nearly here, we didn't want him to get sick. He had expressed longing to come back as soon as it was possible, not wanting to burden April by staying over too long, so he'll probably be back in another day or two, just as soon as the weather warms up a bit.

Don had been occupied with installing a heating system in father's bedroom; it would keep him warm during winter and cool during summer. Since a lot of work would be done there, it would require leaving the toolkit in there, as well as many other pieces and fragments Don would need to complete his task. Therefore, sensei had been moved to April's place where it was warmer.

Also, it was just so Don and Raph wouldn't bother him, if they had to work on the system in the middle of the night, when he's supposed to be sleeping and such. The room is pretty cluttered right now and Don would need to tidy it up a bit before finishing the last tweaks into the system, so hopefully it will be done in another day or two.

I hope it would be before sensei comes home, I'm sure he misses sleeping in his own room.

Don does the technical tasks with the control system, and Raph does the mechanical tasks and makes sure the thing is sturdy. The system would circle the room, since we're living in the pumping station, sensei's bedroom is rather large and though buried underground, even under the station itself, it tend to get breezy and cold around autumn due to the caverns.

I remember Mike once joked and said we ought to call it the turtle cave, because it was too huge a cavern to be a bedroom, and it would make a better den for our so called headquarters.

Because there was a small natural brook under the station, Don and I decided to turn it into sensei's private meditating, and tuck his bedroom in a smaller spaced chamber, and the brook was then transformed into a small pond.

We've attempted getting Koi fish for him, but then realized they wouldn't survive down there without the sun, and sensei wouldn't be able to keep a pond of that size clean, so we opted to keep it natural with a few water plants added to it instead. The trickling waters in the small brook were enough to help him meditate more calmly, he liked it just the way it was.

Also, the tunnel that led out of the chamber and towards the huge lake outside our home was cavernous, and although the breeze that whistles through it was very refreshing, it tend to bring an icy chill at the worst of times, so we had to get a fair part of that tunnel blocked.

"Hey there, sleepy head," Raph walked into the den as Mike made his way towards the kitchen, mumbling something about making lunch. "You wanted to talk?" he said and sat besides me on the couch, a concerned but annoyed look on his face.

I nodded once and sat up to adjust my weight on the backrest, so I would lean more on my fine arm and face Raph more properly. My arm no longer hurt, and Don claimed that I just hit my funny bone, that's why it buzzed and hurt so badly. Mikey joked and claimed that my funny bone didn't find it funny, and it was so not-amused at my little trip and that is why it smart so badly.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask how you found me exactly, in the bathroom." I requested.

He blinked and frowned, not very pleased with the topic, "Ya know Leo, everyone slips and falls, just let it go-" He grunted.

"It's not about me slipping and falling Raph," I argued in annoyance, then took a calming breath, no need to get upset, "and I know accidents happen and I'm no exception, but I really need to know how you found me," I insisted, and at his frown I added, "please? Could you just tell me how it happened?" I pleaded quietly, trying not to sound too desperate.

He eyed me for a moment longer, measuring my words and looked rather unsure if he should answer or not. I know there is nothing wrong with pleading for an answer, but I really hate to sound like I'm begging.

After a good whole minute, he let out a small sigh, "Fine. But I wasn't really there so I don't really know much. After all, it was Don who found you." He began quietly, "Mike and I were at the den, I was watching TV and he was reading his comics, when Don just up and cried for us saying you hit your head in the bathroom. Mike went to get the towels and I went up to help Don pull you out of the tub,"

"Wait! I was **in** the tub?" I frowned, interjecting.

He blinked, taken back by my interruption, "Yeah, face flat on the floor and water up filling half the tub." He replied, paused and blinked a bit more confusedly, "I didn't know you filled the tub, I always thought you take a quick shower." He snorted.

"That's because I _didn't._" I replied with a frown and felt my brows knit tighter, a cold chill welled in my stomach. I never fill in the tub when I bathe and I am one hundred percent sure I didn't plug the tub, either. I touched the knot on the back of my head and winced, feeling the tingling ache throb lightly against my skull with the touch, and then looked at Raph again, "How did I hit my head?"

He shrugged, "Beats me, Don was trying to pull you out of the water when I got there, he said you banged your head on one of the sides, and there was blood around, so I took his word for it and hauled you out."

"Can I see it? The bathroom, I mean." I asked, wanting to see the place after they took me out.

He quirked a brow, "If you think we'd leave everything untouched while you were out, then sorry bro, but Mike already cleaned it up." He paused for a moment, complementing his next words, a look confusion mixed with concern shone in his eyes, "You probably just slipped on the soap, it happens to everybody. I don't see why you're so upset about it," he muttered.

Just as I opened my mouth to argue, wanting to mention the creature of darkness that had approached me in my sleep, there was a crash in the kitchen and we heard Mikey scream in pain.

Startled by the loudly pained cry and confused to the reason behind it, Raph and I looked at each other for only a second, before he bolted off the cushioned seat and sprint towards the kitchen. It took me a little longer to get there, because I was still dizzied and nauseated, a more disturbed chill welled in my stomach, and it didn't get better even after I reached the kitchen.

"What happened?" Don suddenly appeared at the doorway besides me, a small box in his hands he set on the nearby counter. It was probably the herbs he went to buy, because he still wore his topside clothes. He quickly went to fetch a mop from the closet and began mopping most of the hot water off the floor, while Raph knelt besides Mike on the floor, inspecting Mike's hand.

"Chef Ramzi here just got himself a booboo, that's what," Raph razzed while he inspected Mike's bruised hand where they settled on the floor. "C'mon bro, lets get that patched up," he then urged gently and gestured for Mike to get up.

I sighed softly and glanced at Mike, but before I could voice any concerns if any glass was lodged in or anything, I noted a glint in his eyes before it suddenly vanished. I couldn't identify what it was, but it didn't sit well with me.

"Mike, can you tell us what happened?" I offered gently before he passed me. I wondered if it was that obscure creature's doing as well.

Sheepishly, Mike admitted he had somehow managed to cut his finger while chopping carrots, and in his startled jolt when the knife cut through his finger, he jerked his hand away, unknowingly the back of his hand hit the pot that was set on the stove, which then was knocked off and spilt the hot bubbling waters and half cooked chicken onto the floor.

Not only did he cut his thumb and is being a big baby about it, he ended up with scalded skin and a bruised hand, or more like bruised knuckles, and he wasn't very happy about it.

As Raph led Mike out of the kitchen to have that hand taken care of, I think I spied that odd look in Mike's eyes again. Don then ushered me out so he could get the place cleaned up, and when I looked at Mike again, the look was gone.

There is something going on, and I think Mike and I might have more in common than we're letting on. I guess little bro and I might need to have a little talk, because I really feel a connection somewhere.

Although I'm confused, because if it had been the monster, why didn't he say something about it? I guess he figured we wouldn't believe him, and given his wild imagination, I wouldn't put it past Raph and Don to brush it off if he had confessed.

Why do I think that? Very simple… It is because Mike and kitchen accidents are nearly unheard of.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Just to note, in this story I'm aiming for dark, so be wary… .


	3. Devotion

Chapter Three:

-----------------

I glanced out the window and complemented the beauty of the sunset, it really looked breathtakingly lovely.

The sky was vast and danced with the azure shades of crimson flames, the tint purple skies mixed together in a hue of cloudy grey.

The pasture of green was more scattered in patches across the narrow and barren clearing, not really what one would call great open meadow, but at least it looked like a half barren courtyard of sorts, somewhere around the outskirts of a city, and not some shabby looking backyard that hadn't seen a lawnmower in a good couple of years.

Mao, the black shorthaired cat, curled into a tight ball and snuggled onto my lap, while I busied my hands to scratch and cuddle her.

She was my only company and I enjoyed it eminently, it felt better to have her with me, to listen to her gentle mewing and loud purring, than to be alone and have nothing but the wind whistle in my ears as the silence of the night beckoned near.

The crickets had already settled nearby at some bushes, I could hear their loud chirping clearly from where I was.

It was a little annoying the first few nights, but I guess I just got used to it. I remember at first I was just too tired and had slept through the noise, but when I had become more aware of my surroundings, their chirping pierced through my ears and it was hard to ignore. The only way for me to sleep was to listen to Marcella hum a hymn of sorts, she said it was a lullaby and it helped me sleep.

She could really hum some nice songs, but she can't sing the words, cause her voice gets a little husky. Although she could hum the tune just fine she just has no skill for actual and vocal singing, I guess.

Besides, she's too shy to sing out loud, and though she's tan for being under the sun for so long, I really cant see her blush but I know its there, especially when she ducks her head, smothers an embarrassed smile, squares her shoulders and looks away.

I miss her smile, it always makes me feel so at ease.

And speaking of which, I hope she comes back home soon, I'm getting worried.

Marcella had left early this morning to work. She said there was this nearby pub owner who offered her a small stand at the back of his place, and there she could tell people's fortunes for a small fee, as long as he gets at least ten percent of her day's earns.

As scarce as it was to gain the money, and since he was nice enough to not ask for half the money like most people do, she agreed. She needed a job and since she could not get employed like the rest of the city dwellers, considering she's an illegal migrant with no paperwork or documents to sustain her identity, she had to work in secret in order to gain enough to help support her.

When I asked her why she didn't have anything to prove her identity, she gave me a sad smile and said it was a long tale to tell, and it would be better if she saved it for another day, so I decided to leave it at that.

Also, she needed money to buy food and drinks, but to do so she had to go out into the open and meet up with people. Although it is pretty risky a cop might arrest her, she had to work for her own keep. She didn't want to beg or steal because she felt it was- improper. Stealing money or other things from people was wrong, and begging just felt disgraceful.

'_Why should I beg when I'm fully capable of earning my own money?_' she once said, and I completely agree with her. I remember she even admitted if she was ever to be reincarnated into her sin, then it would most likely be pride.

But anyway, she left early in the morning and right about now it was really drawing closer to sunset.

She said she may not come back before midnight, if not tomorrow morning if things got out of hand and she had to hide, so Mao and I are gonna have to occupy ourselves till she comes back home… if she came back home.

I really didn't want to think she won't come back, or if a cop did catch her and dragged her to the station. I guess if she was caught I wouldn't know and wouldn't be able to help her, because I'd have no idea where to look, and considering I'm not human, walking out in the open isn't even an option. I'm just gonna have to stay here and wait, and hope for her to come home safely.

True I've only known her for barely a few days, five days if you want to be specific, but I like her like a close friend if not like a sister or a mother figure. Although I barely remember who I was, I've not regained any of my memories as of yet, just being with her makes up for it in a way, because to her it doesn't really matter who or what I was, she accepts me and cares for me regardless.

She cares for me for who I am, not for who I was or _what_ I am.

Even with her company and compassion, there are moments of familiarity when I feel there is something amiss.

I've been trying to figure out what it was, this shifting sense of familiarity that keeps reoccurring, hoping it would help me come one step closer to who I used to be, but so far there is nothing in the horizon with a glimmer of hope or recognition. The sky in my mind's eye is still veiled with a thick sheet of black cast over my destiny, and I get the feeling it would remain that way for a long time to come.

Mao mewed and purred against my palm, distracted from the nostalgic sunset and back to the real world.

It was still early in spite of the dark blue-tainted sky, and there was a chance Marcella would make it back before midnight. I really wanted to be awake when she does. I didn't want to think I've fallen asleep again when she arrives home, tired and needing a hand with something.

I admit my body is still sore and stiff even after the days of rest, but at least I could get out of bed and walk around, stretch my muscles and help her around the burrow. Previously, I could barely lift an arm because I didn't even have the stamina to stay awake, but now after a few days of rest I'm feeling much better, more energized and hopefully more an asset than a liability to her.

The least I could do to help was to aid her and earn my keep, right? I don't want to be a liability to her.

Mao leapt out of my lap and settled in front of the makeshift door, and no more than a few seconds later the slate of wood was pushed aside and Marcella walked in, carefully after she tucked the wood back in place, before she turned around to greet us with a fine but tired smile.

"Welcome home," I greeted with a mellow grin.

I pushed off the chair to stretch my heavy and stiff legs a bit, before I took the basket off her hands and set it aside for now. She sat on the chair with a slow tired sigh and rolled her neck, before she rubbed the side of her neck to soothe the ache that lingered there. I stepped behind her and gently massaged the sore muscles, even though the golden chocker sort of blocked the way.

"How was your day?" I began, gently working around the jewelry.

She smiled and relaxed under my touch, then rolled a shoulder to ease some of the ache there, "Fine," she hesitated for a moment, then smiled a bit wider, "Fate is a strange thing, no? Shows you something at one moment, and then shows you something else regarding the same subject the next." She sighed and closed her eyes, chin tilted as she relaxed with my handy work.

After I finished soothing her neck I settled on the bed besides her, "Enlighten me," I smiled, wanting to hear what tale she had to tell tonight.

She nodded in acceptance to my request, and then worked on taking the sash off her head. Her somewhat curly and wavy locks danced as she took the beads and accessories from her hair, before removing the bracelets and necklaces off her shoulders and chest.

I noticed that before bedtime she'd take all her accessories off, all but the golden choker.

I asked her why she didn't take it off, and she exclaimed it was forced on her, and there was no way to take it off without the key. Also, she claimed that she didn't want it removed anyway, and why she didn't want it off as well was yet another story for another day, so I left it at that and decided not to ask her about it for the moment.

"There is nothing much to say tonight, I'm afraid." She smiled as she put the last piece of jewelry into her safe little oak box for tomorrow.

As she stretched her arms and popped her knuckles one by one, I couldn't help but stare at how naturally beautiful she looked, especially without all the sparkly and glittery items distracting the onlookers from her face.

Her hair looked better without that sari-like shawl thing covering it. Her hair looked browner down to the bottom and turned more inky black as it made its way back to the roots. It was because of her hair's nature being somewhat oily and dries up and gets curled, and being under the sun for long makes her hair turn brown instead of black. It was also straight from the top but starts turning wavy and curly half way down, leaving curls to rest on her shoulders and a few somewhat frizzed locks to cover her temple, and that's where the faintest mark of a scar lingered over her left brow.

I remember when I asked her about it the first time, she simply stated: '_I got this when I died._'

I was tempted to ask about the lighter colored mark again and again, but refined because every time she remembers the mark, it makes her sad and I didn't want to upset her any further.

It oddly looked like a circle with a splatter-like mark around it, like the sun with a burst of light circling it.

But also, it looked almost like someone had taken a tomato and threw it at the wall with all his might, and it hit dead center and splattered the juice everywhere. It wasn't big, it was barely bigger than a coin the size of a nickel, which made it a little odd looking, really.

But again, that is a story for another night, she's probably tired and needs to rest, anyway.

Marcella settled back on the chair and smiled at me, before Mao decided it was a good time to curl up in mommy's lap. She smiled more contently and tenderly soothed the feline's coat, stroked it lovingly and glanced up to me. She drew in a deep breath and I could see it on her face, busy putting the words together to tell me what happened today.

"Around a week ago I met an old blind man." She began, quiet and at ease, "He came to me asking for his fortune, saying he was going to go through a surgery and wanted to know if it would succeed." She paused to scratch the cat's head and Mao flattened her ears, flicking them as if she was listening to the conversation, "I read his palm and looked into his future, but there was no sign whether he would regain his sight or not."

"He was sad and thought the surgery would failed, and claimed if it would not succeed then he will not bother doing it." she paused for a moment, her saddened expression lingered, "I did not want him to go broken hearted, so I told him to have faith and hope for the best, that some times the future might be bleak, but if there is a chance the surgery might aid him then he should do it." She paused her cuddling to the cat and glanced towards the window, a solemn smile crept on her lips.

"I told him: Perhaps I was not allowed to see your future, and that is why you must depend on yourself." She closed her eyes, a moment of silence lingered as we listened contently to the silence of the night, tainted with the chirping of the crickets outside.

"He didn't say anything and simply paid my fee and left, just like they always do when they're not particularly happy with what they find." She looked back at me with a tired smile, and then a slight sad furrow kit her brows, "Today, I met the blind man again and he told me the surgery was the week after. He asked me the same question again, so I read his palm…"

"What did you see?" I asked softly and wondered if the future changed the second time.

Marcella had told me, more than once the same people would come to her to ask their fortunes told. She said that those who were unfortunate at one point of their reading, came back later and she would read their fortune again and again, some times the fortune remains the same, some other times it changes either subtly or massively, while on other occasions she can't read their fortune at all.

She said that there were those who she cannot read, or would find delivering their fortune too dangerous, or too seriously altering so she would tell them she saw nothing, therefore claims no fee for her task.

She claimed that there were times she was forced to exploit a terrible future, and things only got worse. One of those fortunes still haunt her for the owner of that misfortunate future claimed she was the cause and wants her dead.

She didn't exactly say it, but I think it is probably the reason she came here, to escape the one who hunts her.

"I saw him walking without the stick, but I could not see his face." She paused, continuing the tale with the blind man, her lips pursed and her expression neutral, "Faith goes a long way and strong believers are often gifted for their devotion." She smiled, "So as far as he was concerned it meant he would regain some part of his sight, even if it is only a meager portion of it." she sighed softly.

"After all, the blind would wish for their sight even if it is only one eye." She closed her eyes, resting lightly on her chair.

"But- I did not tell him this, I had the vague feeling the surgery would not be the cause, but it would aid him gain back his sight." She added as she stroked the cat, "Somehow, I felt if I had told him the surgery would not be the one to give him back his vision, then he might change his mind and not do it, forfeiting the change and remain unable to see." She sadly smiled at me, "By not exploiting that piece of information, I do believe he has a better chance to regain his vision, even if the result would not be as immediate as he would like."

"Things happen for a reason, and I think you did the right thing." I assured her with a smile, placed my hand on hers and squeezed gently, "Now, did you have dinner? It's getting late and you ought to get some sleep."

She tilted her head with a bemused smile and shook her head, "No, I hadn't eaten anything, not yet. The pub was rather crowded and I did not wish to mingle with the wrong crowed, considering those who would take notice of my items." She touched the choker, a little wry gleam shone in her eyes. "Greed is such a frightening being." She then murmured, looking a little unnerved.

I tenderly rubbed her hand before I pushed off the chair, then set about preparing something for her to eat.

There wasn't much to go around, but we ration whatever we find so it would last as long as possible, but hopefully with today's earns it would last us for a few more days, and she wont have to go out to risk herself being captured by the police or anything. I don't want her getting caught, more because she's the only one I knew and I didn't want to end up alone.

I have no idea who I was, let alone if have anyone to go back to, so I'd rather stay with her until I get a clue to my true identity.

I like Marcella, she's really nice and she's got this really sweet smile. She makes me feel at ease when she talks, her accent kind of tickles my mind when I try to catch the differences between the way she talks, and the way I do. Sometimes she switches to Latin and ends up confusing me, so she tends to forget herself when she's really into a conversation.

Also, I'm learning new words and I find Latin kinda easy to learn, if you really put your mind into it and try to memorize what words means what. Marcella is also very patient with me, and is always more than happy to share her linguistic knowledge.

She blinked tiredly and after dinner she was tired so she went to bed early.

Naturally I pushed off the bed, where I had sat during the whole time during our late night chatting and through dinner, and then gently ushered her to get some sleep and rest for the reminder of the night.

I will sleep on the floor for tonight because she looked tired, she needed the comfy mattress more than I did. It didn't take long before she was fast asleep, so I tucked her into bed, brushed a curly lock from her lips, and then smiled contently at how peaceful she looked.

I admit that when I found out about her powers, I wanted her to read my palms and hopefully find a clue, some sort of thread that would lead me to who I was, or maybe even look into the farthest future she could trace and figure out if I'd find who I am or not, but she refused. She said that there were powers within me that somewhat deflected her abilities, and something was blocking her, so she could not read my palm even if she wanted.

To be honest with myself, I think she didn't want to read my palm even if she could. Simply because there was just this thing about her face when I asked her, it told me she wasn't comfortable and probably knew in advance what my future would be like, if only a hunch, so she preferred to pretend that she couldn't read it at all and avoid the whole thing.

Although a little hurt at that thought, I figured if she thought some sort of harm would come if she did read it, then I'm better off not knowing. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and I'd better be safe than sorry.

Wide awake with no sign of sleep any time soon, I picked up a book from the nearby makeshift shelf and began reading.

The Alchemist, it was titles, a story about faith she called it and recommended the book, saying it was a good read about one pursuing their dreams, almost to the literal meaning of the word. I was a bit surprised to find out the book was really about a guy pursuing his dream, literally.

Absorbed into the book with Mao lazing peacefully on my lap, I stayed awake all night fully occupied.

I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep until I woke up the next morning with a sore neck.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: um, just to remind you people, this story is heading towards dark and wicked, therefore I'm upping the rating to M just to be on the safe side. It won't be explicitly detailed or overly bloody or gory, just- messy in a dark kinda way. I do hope you decided to stick with this story, though; because I'm not even into the first quarter of the plot yet.


	4. Rebuttle

Chapter Four:

----------

Like a drowning man suddenly tossed ashore, I gasped long and deep and swallowed huge gulps of air.

Blinking wildly I stared disoriented at the dark blue sky that hung over my head, and I didn't move.

I blinked, staring quizzically as the innocent stars twinkled, oblivious to the bloodshed battle roaring abound.

With a throbbing headache I groaned, bit back a colorful stream of words when the thumping pounded against my brain, and then pushed off the dirty floor. I examined myself, noting a few cuts and bruises and minor bleeding here and there, but nothing to worry about, so at the glimmer of my weapon where it lay besides me, I picked it up and pushed to my feet.

A slight nausea hit my stomach and the taste of bail climbed up my throat, the sickness waved in front of my eyes as my vision blurred and my head spun. After a moment of leaning against a wall, swallowing large gulps of air, meditating lightly to channel away the jolts of pain buzzing through every inch of muscles in my body, I regained my balance enough to stand on my two feet without tripping.

I nearly jumped out of my shell when a loud shout came, followed by a loud, echoing 'Thump!' as if something really large and heavy fell and hit the ground. I rubbed my head, shook the nausea away as much as I could, and then wobbled a bit towards the direction of the sound, which was when I heard the sounds of people shouting.

With my shell pressed against the wall I hid into the shadows, peered past the corner to see two men on the floor, bloodied and somewhat bruised, but clearly alive and kicking. Those two punks, with Purple Dragon tattoos on their arms were near an old well of sorts, and one of them was trying to pick up his partner, ready to escape the scene.

Looking around the area, I saw it was that abandoned factory place Casey took us to a couple of months back, except some buildings were already torn down, and now there were lots of holes around, too. It nearly looked like a mob of enormous moles had a digging or tunneling competition at this place, long before we got here.

"Where'd it go?" a man gasped, panting heavily in loss of breath, then grimaced and hissed in pain as he clutched his stomach.

"I managed to kick it off, the bloody bloke fell down the well, it won't be coming after us no more, the freak." His partner rambled on and gestured towards the half broken wall with a clear hole showing in view. He took a gun from his pocket and shoved it in his friend's hand, "Here, use this till we get outta here, the master won't like this one bit," he glanced at the well, as if expecting whatever it was to come out after them.

I didn't have to wonder who they were talking about, because as far as these mugs were concerned there were only four freaks after them. I remembered bits and pieces of where I was and what I was doing here- there, and I realized in one mind numbing moment, one of my brothers was probably the one who fell down the bottom of that ditch.

My brothers and I were after this smuggler, a dealer of sorts who was supposed to be looking for Hun for some reason, and these two dingbats are probably his faceless minions. Leo told us to split and track them down, there were six of these guys, and we were supposed to round them up and then leave them to the police once we get the boss smuggler's name and location.

I remember Leo and Don already contact me saying they already caught four, so these two are the last two left. I was up the roof at the time, but for the life of it, I can't remember what I was doing on the bottom of the floor.

Maybe I imagined it, being on the rooftop I mean, or maybe I was missing something and didn't remember the part when I actually descended the building, but either way I'll dwell into it later, because this is just not the time.

About then, the comment about the 'freak' they pushed down the well was obviously one of my brothers, and I had to get him out, but since I owe them a knuckle sandwich, I'm gonna have to deal with them first.

Naturally, they didn't know what hit them. I didn't even give them the chance to cock that gun before I was breathing down their necks. I knocked two birds with one clean punch then tied them up, and then tossed them aside for the moment.

I was just about to climb down the well to check on who was as the bottom, to see if it was indeed one of my brothers or an unfortunate soul, and to see if he's alive or dead since it looked like a seriously deadly fall; only to catch glimpse of a three fingers hand clutching the edge of the surrounding brick wall, my brother had climbed his way back up and actually managed to greet me with a cheesy grin.

I admit I was really glad he got out of there alive, and seeing he had was roughed up but no serious injuries on him, and although I could have sworn he was the one to hit rock bottom from the loud thumping sound I heard earlier, the niggling thought of how he could have survived the fall wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to worry about it later.

He said when the thug managed to kick him he didn't notice the well and toppled back, but half way through the drop he tried to grab onto something, only to clutch a loose boulder, it dropped off its perch and the huge boulder fell with him, so while he managed to grasp another ledge and climbed his way back up, the boulder continued to fall and hit the bottom, and it was the cause of the thump.

Although I was a bit skeptical cause his hands didn't look injured, no bleeding or cracked nails from climbing the bricks, I put it on lady luck and escorted him back to our meeting point.

I had plans to ask him about it again once we got home, but he was tired and drained, and slept during the whole trip home, and I really didn't have the heart to wake him up, he looked like death warmed over.

Of course, that was at least four days ago, and Leo kept rambling about this creature that attacked him in the bathroom yesterday. The attack never accrued again and Leo is already getting better, but argued he still sensed the thing nearby at some occasions, and then the sensation would fade some other times. He rambled on how frustrating it was the creature, as he called it, wasn't doing anything and just lingered there, watching us.

Frankly? I think Fearless Leader lost it, maybe that bump in the head knocked something loose.

I think my fall off that rooftop knocked something loose, too; because I've been feeling- wired ever since that night.

Sometimes I'd feel sort of tingly as if someone was caressing my skin with dainty, cold fingertips, sensual and teasing, but still faint enough to make me think I imagined it. I'd remember bits and pieces of that night, other times I feel like I'm seeing things for the first time after the fall. It felt as if someone had set a lock on my brain, and only when I'm thinking of a certain something does the lock unlock and I do remember, if only vaguely, but it doesn't always work. Most of the time the thought would be on the tip of my tongue, but no matter how hard I try it wouldn't come out.

Although I don't remember much of how long it had been since it started, my memory jumping around I mean, to be honest I remember only being in the dojo working out on the punching bag, when things suddenly- changed.

Leo was in his bedroom, probably meditating and grouching about the headache. He ought to be thankful his skull wasn't fractured, or that he didn't get a concussion after that trip. Don is in his lab working on this little piece of equipment, ready to install it into sensei's new heating system.

Mike- was… somewhere around here, I think; I dunno, I don't remember when I last saw him, actually.

Bah, knowing that little pipsqueak, he's probably hiding in some dark little corner giggling his butt off and plotting a prank.

But I remember I stood there in front of the punching bag. My body stilled and I felt so- so… I dunno, cold. It felt as if every droplet of sweat rolling down every curve and chisel of muscle in my body suddenly froze into thick spikes of ice, they felt like thorny blisters against my flesh, pinching the flesh and causing uncomfortable jolts through the tight nerves.

The sandbag in front of me suddenly zoomed out of view, as if it had suddenly been sucked back twenty feet away.

Wait, twenty? The dojo isn't that large… or, is it?

Blurred vision danced before my eyes, and I heard the unmistakable sound of water currents gurgling softly in my ears, as if I was fish swimming casually deep underwater. Dizzied, I stopped and attempted to press my palm on my forehead to wipe away the sweat, where a salty droplet hung from the corner of my brow and threatened to roll into my eye, but that's when I discovered my muscles were all so stiff and frozen solid, all I could do was twitch my fingers and blink, unable to move.

My neck was stiff as stone as well, and my whole frame was petrified, it was alarmingly unnerving.

'_Do you feel that?_' a voice whispered in my ear.

A wild shiver shook my spine and I felt my eyes bug out, and with my breath caught in my throat, I couldn't even turn my head around to face the owner of that voice no matter how hard I tried. Every column in my neck felt like it had been merged into the other and formed one thick cord. My spine was stiff like the rest of my body, and it felt like something- some_one_ was controlling it, and whoever it was he was standing right behind me.

"Feel _what?_" I barely whispered, my voice husked from thirst. I've worked on the punching bag for a good hour now and hadn't stopped for a break, so I really hadn't used my voice till now.

'_The fear,_' he whispered with a faint hissing sound, a hint of mesmerized awe in his disturbingly familiar, yet eerily unfamiliar voice, '_Do you feel it beating in your chest, fast like an antelope fleeing a wild beast's mighty maw? Swelling and expanding inside of you like a balloon, to perhaps suddenly explode with a blaze of scorching fury? Freezing your heart in a fleeting, stilling heartbeat? Do you feel it suffocating you, overwhelming you like a shadow of the midnight sun,_' he continued.

"Yeah yeah yeah, how very poetic of you, that's really nice." I interrupted with a grump, and fought the urge to roll my eyes at his weird choice of words, controlling the infesting sense of dread from welling any thicker in my stomach. I'll be damned if I'd let it show. "So how about you let go of me, I don't have all night." I argued, counting the seconds and musing how I'm going to rearrange his face once I'm free.

He didn't answer immediately, a hint of annoyance lingered before he did reply, probably irritated at my sarcasm to his cheesy poetry, '_Neither do your brothers,_' he adding to my earlier suggestion with a low laugh.

I gasped when I tried to jerk my neck around to look at the little punk, only to have this- him- _it_ turn my head back forward too roughly and strained a muscle in my neck. I grunted and stifled the shout of pain, the muscle was jerk hard and the throbbing hammered against my brain, it hurt! But once I managed to collect myself I snarled and bit back a spiteful growl, meditating lightly to channel the pain away.

'_I don't remember giving you permission to move,_' he admonished and I sensed him come closer, an eerie chill make my skin crawl.

"I don't remember giving a damn to your opinion," I snarled, irritation sparked like a flame and consumed my unease to the last speck, "What- the shell do you want?" I hissed through grit teeth, the pain in my neck still strung on the sore muscle, but not too much as I was still aware of my surroundings.

'_Nothing, I already have what I came for._' He- it murmured sullenly, '_But I was bored, so I thought I'd have a little fun while I'm still here._' It added, and an eerie chuckle followed as the voice came even closer.

I tensed when I actually felt his fingertips against my shell, the same light-touched and teasing fingers as before, and a nasty shiver prickled every inch of skin on my body with that cold touch. My heart throbbed manically against my plastron, and I felt the blood drain from my head as if someone was sucking every droplet out of my system.

I couldn't control the wayward of emotions that suddenly surged through my mind, as my body grew weaker and my legs were becoming shaky. It was making me dizzy and my legs weakened, but stubbornly I refused to let them buckle. I felt like I had been tossed into a spiral, the eye of the storm, or even like a computer system crashing during overload, it was- overwhelming.

I squeezed my eyes shut as pressure gradually grew thicker and thicker, bit back a groan and felt like my brain was about to explode. But then suddenly stopped and I gasped sharply, eyes bugged out again, bright lights assaulted my orbs and I was blinded for what felt merely seconds.

I tried to shield my eyes, or to rub my skull but I still couldn't move, my arms were heavier than lead.

Then right out of sheer oblivion I flashed my eyes open and gasped for air, only to discover I was in my bedroom and in my very own bed. Leo, looking just fine with no bandages sat besides me, a cool damp rag in his hand he used to dap on my temple. When I tried to talk my voice failed me and he shushed me gently, that rag tenderly moved across my forehead absorbing the sweat and cooling the aching headache.

"You blacked out in the dojo, Donny said you overexert yourself with too many hours of work and no breaks." My brother murmured, "And now you've got a fever and you've been out for quite a while," he added with a chiding tone.

"Leonardo?" sensei's voice came from somewhere around the room.

I blearily blinked, my heavy eyelids tried to clamp over my orbs, keeping me captive to the darkness. I gratefully perked at father's voice, but felt guilty because I realized he had probably come home, only to discover me out of commission.

Gee, what a lousy way to welcome your old man home.

"He's okay sensei, he's awake." Leo's voice replied, and then it was followed by something else I couldn't catch, his voice was lost as the gurgling sound of water tickled my ears again.

I shook my head and tried to speak, I didn't want that thing to get between me and warning my family. If it was indeed the thing that attacked Leo in the bathroom, I want to warn them or at least do something about it. But I wasn't even coherent enough to even understand what I was trying to say, words meaningless and obscure spouted from my mouth, and Leo just shushed me and said I was being delusional.

The last I remember was that gentle, warm furry hand on my temple and a soothing voice, and then darkness.

I slept, and while lost in the realm of the abyss, I wondered through the path I knew so very little, yet felt so familiar.

….

Bleary and drowsy, I blinked a few times to clear my vision.

I managed to raise a heavy arm, with a balled fist rubbed the sand from my eyes.

A whole minute passed before I craned my stiff neck to the sides, the dull throbbing ache was still there, before I realized I was in my bedroom alone. Dizzied and feeling drained physically of every speck of energy I ever had, I tried to push myself up but the nausea returned and I had to stay still for a moment for it to pass. I saw I wasn't in my hammock but on a futon on the floor, the hammock had been taken down off its poles and folded, then placed aside to reserve space.

Groaning loudly I palmed my face and tried to sit up again, and then fought the next wave of sickness that climbed up my throat, it was worse than before. I think I'm gonna hurl.

"Raph, you shouldn't be moving." Don's soft whisper boomed in my ears like an explosion, as his nearly soundless steps sounded like the pounding of a marching band.

I groaned again, hands on the sides of my head to block out the deafening noise. "Not so loud!" I whispered with a pained hiss, eyes squeezed shut, my head throbbed as the pulsating ache pounded against my skull, and a sense of heat surged through my neck. That's when his hand surprised me with the gentle, cool touch against my forehead, it was amazingly soothing.

"God, you're burning!" he breathed deep as his voice full of worry and concern, and then eased me onto the bed again without much of a fight. I really didn't feel like doing much of anything, "Don't move, I'll go get some ice," he merely said before he bolted out of the room.

By the time he did come back, I was hurling my lunch into the wastebasket, lurching and gagging, grimacing at the horrible bitter taste that latched to my throat like slimy sick leeches. I felt his hand touch my shell and rub gently, urging me not to hold back and let it all out.

Once done, I got over my pitiful embarrassment, he handed me a cool water bottle and instructed me to rinse my mouth. The feel of cool water in my dry, aching mouth and soothing the heat that scorched my tongue was amazingly good, but sadly I couldn't swallow any of it, cause the aftertaste was still in thick balls of slime latched to my throat, it made me want to gag again just thinking about it.

Dizzied and disoriented once again, all I recall was being guided back to bed, my head felt light and my sight was blurred and swimming.

For a long while I relaxed, recovering from the nausea and resting, but then the eerie feeling returned.

Like a siren, I only remembered hearing the lulling voice murmur and say something, and instead of panic I found myself dulling, almost as if I was slowly being hypnotized. I'm not sure what happened, all I remember was the sensation of drifting aimlessly in the middle of nowhere, before this odd burning pain starting on my hands, before the same ache and heat started on my feet.

It burned hotly against my already hot and sweaty flesh, but it also smelled like copper- blood?

When I opened my eyes, though I don't recall closing them, I blinked and gazed hazily into a brother's blank eyes.

I was about to try and say something to him, but then noted there was something there, a gleam in his eyes of sorts I could not read.

And when he grinned with pearl white teeth with a smile so dark and eerie, I knew in that moment of helplessness this turtle was not my brother…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: …


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